Across a Crowded Room
by Empress-Eerian-Sadow
Summary: For vorns, they danced with each other without ever meeting on the dance floor.


Title: Across A Crowded Room

Author: lj user="eerian_sadow"

Rating: PG (for robotic "alcohol" use)

Prompt: Transformers, Jazz/Prowl: Dancing - Watching you, watching me.

Universe: G1

Warnings: Implied relationships between robots identifying themselves with male pronouns.

Author's Notes: My humblest apologies, everyone. This was due on the 12th, and would have been finished on time, but I was on the road to Texas that day. Hope you enjoy despite the tardiness.

He hated these parties. Not parties in general--he wouldn't be Jazz if he hated parties--but these highly formal social gatherings put on by the highly ranked officers were the worst. He could feel other mechs staring at him, watching his every move, just waiting for him to slip up. The wrong thing said at the wrong time to the wrong mech could spell certain doom for his career. He loved the orn's worth of pay he had just earned performing on the stage in front of the orchestra, but really wanted to get away now.

"Relax, Jazz," Bluestreak said, walking up to him and handing him some kind of energon cocktail. "You look more miserable than a cybercat in the wash racks."

"I appreciate that you and your brother hired me to perform tonight, I really do." Jazz took a drink of his cocktail. "But I really hate this stuff."

"Prowl does too," the other mech replied. "Which is funny, because this is his promotion party."

"Prowl?" Despite himself, the ops agent was suddenly curious.

"Oh right. We didn't get a chance to introduce you. He's our older brother." Bluestreak scanned the crowd for a moment before pointing. "Over there, with Smokescreen."

Jazz followed the sniper's line of sight and felt his systems stall for a moment. Prowl was a touch taller than Smokescreen--though that could have just been an illusion created by how proudly he held his door wings up--and painted a simple black and white. His face was well sculpted and accented by a striking red chevron. The ops agent had always thought Blue and Smokey were attractive mechs, but Prowl took that attractiveness and elevated it into true beauty.

When he turned back to Bluestreak, the other mech was grinning. "Close your mouth, Jazz. He's not that good looking."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Blue." And while he did manage to close his mouth, Jazz couldn't take his optics off Prowl for the rest of the party.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"The singer is watching me," Prowl said to his brother.

Smokescreen turned, scanning the crowd for a moment, before his gaze settled on Jazz. "And? Jazz is harmless."

Prowl's gaze turned to the singer, in time to see him look away to speak with a slender blue and white noblemech. "If that singer is the Jazz I've been hearing about, then he's hardly harmless."

"He is, and he's completely harmless to anyone who isn't a Decepticon." The blue mech turned to the refreshment table and put several energon goodies on a small plate. "I hear that he's next in line to become head of the department."

"Those are the rumors," the black and white mech agreed.

Despite how completely inappropriate it was--not to mention horribly rude--Prowl continued to watch the mech, studying him. He wasn't what anyone would have classified as traditionally attractive, with his small frame and visored optics. He seemed to exude some sort of charisma, though, as he had a constant stream of mechs and femmes walking up and engaging him in conversation. The operative didn't even have an eye-catching paint scheme, though Prowl wasn't one to be overly critical of such things. Logically, there was no reason for him to keep staring, but he couldn't take his optics off of Jazz.

"He likes to dance," Smokescreen said, startling him out of his thought processes.

Prowl didn't answer, he simply kept watching.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

They encountered each other frequently after Prowl's promotion party. Jazz's position as a special operations field agent often required the advice or planning of tactics personnel--and Prowl, more often than not, was tapped for planning those missions because of his superior skills.

They never spoke about anything that did not pertain to whatever mission they were planning, but they always felt the other's optics watching carefully.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It felt strange not to be singing at this party--he'd gotten tons of offers since Bluestreak and Smokescreen hired him--but a mech just didn't perform at his own promotion party. Blaster had started planning it the moment that his boss announced his retirement, and Jazz was surprised at the amount of care that had been put into the whole thing. It was just party enough to keep Jazz entertained and just subdued enough to keep the other officers from disapproving.

He was surprised to see Prowl, there, though.

The tactician was watching him from his position near the door, which didn't surprise Jazz at all. It was a pattern they had fallen into nearly a vorn ago. Prowl was still just as strikingly beautiful and the ops agent was still just as captivated, but he had learned over time that there was a sharp processor to go with those looks and it made the mech that much more attractive to him.

Silently, he vowed to do more than just watch, tonight.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It didn't take long for Prowl to spot Jazz lingering near the band on stage. The newly promoted head of special operations was moving absently with the music and staring in his direction. It was an old routine by now--they stayed professional during work hours and stared at each other appraisingly during the numerous parties their positions forced them to attend.

Prowl had discovered that he was beginning to enjoy the parties, just for the opportunity to see a Jazz that wasn't the special ops mech.

Something about Jazz seemed different tonight. Even as he swayed with the music, the ops mech held himself differently, with more of a prepared poise than the casual grace he normally had. It could be caused by his new position and the need to present himself as more than just another junior officer, but Prowl didn't think so.

Drawing up courage that he didn't know he possessed, he began crossing the room. Tonight he would do more than just watch.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Dance with me."

The voice was sudden and unexpected and Jazz almost dropped the energon cocktail that he had just picked up when he heard it. He hoped he didn't look as stunned as he felt as he turned toward its owner. "Wondered where you had gone when I lost track of you by the door."

The words didn't seem to surprise Prowl at all. Of course, neither of them had ever tried to hide their attentions from the others. "At every party for the last five point seven vorns, we have done nothing but stare at each other like sparklings with their first crush. I decided that it was time to do something about it."

Jazz laughed. "I was just gathering my nerve to do the same thing."

The tactician visibly relaxed. "Then you are amiable to more than just staring?"

The ops mech grinned. "Mech, I've been amiable to more than just staring since the moment I saw you. Bluestreak said you weren't really the party type, though."

"Not this sort of party," Prowl agreed. "Smokescreen once told me that you like to dance?"

Jazz's grin grew and he set his drink down on a nearby table. "Prowl, I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
